17
We were silent as we walked back towards the city. Around us, the air felt alive, and the street seemed to be populated with more couples than usual, holding hands and smiling at each other.
“I need to drop off Pippa,” Leo said. “You don’t mind waiting, do you?”
“No, go ahead,” I said.
A minute later, we arrived at an apartment building with glossy black walls and tinted windows.
“I won't be a moment,” Leo said.
I gave Pippa one last pet and scratch before her ears, and then Leo disappeared into the building. True to his word, he returned less than a minute later, Pippa-less.
“How did you convince your friend to let you borrow her?” I asked as we started down the street again. The city was lit up with traffic lights, car headlights, and tens of thousands of yellow windows. A red light moved behind a hazy cloud, indicating a plane on its way to Tullamarine airport.
“It wasn't hard to convince Tommy. I just asked,” Leo replied.
“Okay,” I said. “But wouldn't you have had to explain what you needed the dog for? It seems a bit sus to just say, ‘Hey, can I borrow your dog for an evening?’”
“I said that I was doing a grand gesture.”
"A grand gesture?" I echoed.
“Yeah, like in rom-coms. It sounds cheesy, explaining it to you now, but I thought it would be nice. And Pippa's really cute. I knew that you would love her.”
“She is cute,” I agreed. “Thank you for tonight. It was really thoughtful.”
He shrugged. “It was nothing.”
I swallowed and made my voice light. “I wonder what I’d do for you as a grand gesture. I’d probably have to make an architectural model."
“An architectural model?” Leo repeated, head swivelling to look at me.
“Yeah,” I said, “of the Sagrada Familia.”
“You remembered that?”
“Of course.”
“It'd be very difficult to recreate,” Leo pointed out.
“Well, it's either that or a building that looks like your face, which would probably be equally as difficult.”
“And,” he said, lips curving. “It would have the added benefit of being a hideous building.”
“Hey, are you calling yourself hideous? Or are you fishing for compliments again?”
“No!” Leo's eyes went big, brows jumping up to his hairline. “No, I just mean a house that looked like someone’s face would be creepy. Imagine living in it. You open a window, and it’s the person’s eyes. Or, you’re chilling in the toilet, but it’s actually the person’s nose.”
“Yeah, that would be pretty weird. I suppose that I could always go to a tourist shop,” I mused. “I could buy a miniature model of the Sydney Opera House.”
“You could,” Leo said.
We fell silent because, in this hypothetical scenario, my grand gesture would be my attempt to win him back after doing something to hurt him, and I didn’t want to dwell on that.
Up ahead were the bright neon lights of a convenience store. I turned to Leo. “Do you want a coffee?”
He eyed me. “Do I look tired?”
“No,” I said with a small smile. “I just remembered you liked them, and I don't know if you wanted something to drink. I could get myself a hot chocolate.”
“All right,” Leo said.
In the store, we used the machine to make two $1 beverages. I insisted on paying, even though it was literally spare change compared to the dinner Leo had paid for.
We left the corner shop and continued up the street, which had a slight uphill incline. As I sipped the sweet chocolate and milky mixture, I thought that coffee could be another grand gesture for Leo. He’d said several times he was turning twenty soon — I could buy him a heap of coffee pods as a gift.
We arrived at my apartment building sooner than I expected, and I had only swallowed half of my hot chocolate. I could tell from how Leo held his cup that he hadn't finished his cup either.
“Well,” he said as we stood on the street, the lobby windows casting us in light. “I hope you had a good time.”
“I did. Thank you for this evening. I enjoyed myself.”
“That's good.” He looked down at his hands, which enclosed around the coffee cup, then back up again. “Well, I’ll stop keeping you in the cold. But I hope that maybe we can see each other again. No pressure though.” He smiled and took a step back.
I frowned. “Are you leaving?”
He nodded.
“You don’t want to come up?”
He glanced away. “I don’t want you to think that the only reason I asked you out was to get in your bed,” he said quietly.
I felt a pang in my chest, remembering what I’d said last time.
“I understand,” I said, “but you haven't even finished your coffee.”
He held it up as if just noticing it and shrugged. “I can finish it on the way. It'll keep me warm.”
“Finish it with me,” I said. “Besides, I think it would be better to talk some more, you know?”
Leo searched my face. “Okay.”
We entered the building and took the elevator up to my floor. In my studio, we sat next to each other on the couch, our legs touching as we sipped our drinks.
“So,” Leo began.
“So,” I replied.
Silence stretched out, and I laughed. “I can’t believe we’re still being awkward.”
Leo laughed, too, and set down his cup on the coffee table. “Well, I’m worried you still hate me.”
“I don't hate you. I never did. If I hated you, I wouldn't have cared in the first place. I wouldn't be sad or angry. Honestly, today has been really nice.”
He nodded slowly. “I’ve kind of alluded to this, but I haven’t actually asked properly.” He took a deep breath. “I was wondering whether you’d want to try a real relationship. I feel like I have to warn you that I might be awful at it, and I don’t know what I’m doing, but if you do want this, I will try my best. Because I want to be with you.” He gave me a small smile, but it was tinged with self-deprecation.
I didn’t want that smile. I wanted the real thing.
“Yes,” I murmured. “I mean, the answer’s obvious. I felt so lucky when I met you, Leo. It's like you fell right into my lap. And this is all I ever wanted. So, yes, of course.”
“Of course?”
“Of course,” I repeated, with more emphasis, and slid my hand across the fabric of the couch until one of my fingertips brushed one of his, sending a spark through my body. My heart raced like this was my first time alone with a boy.
Leo stared at where our fingers touched, then met my eyes. “The night we…the last time we saw each other,” he began. “You said I don’t like touching you. I do like it. I loved kissing you and sharing a bed, but I know I’ve never —” his lashes fluttered as he glanced away, then met my eyes again. “I’ve never touched you there.”
“To be fair,” I said, “you have offered. But every time, you looked…nauseated. It was polite of you to offer, but my idea of a fun time doesn’t include forcing someone to —”
“You wouldn’t have been forcing me,” Leo interrupted. “I wasn’t nauseated or grossed out or anything like that. I was just…nervous. I didn’t want to screw it up.”
“You wouldn’t have screwed it up,” I told him.
“But,” he said, eyes growing big, “what if I bit your dick off?”
That shocked a laugh from me. Then I realised he was completely serious. “I’m sure you won’t do that,” I said in my most reassuring voice.
“Fine, I might not bite it off, but…what if I’m too rough and I hurt you? Or what if I do such a bad job that you get soft from boredom? What if I’m so terrible that you realise you don’t like me after all? That I’m not worth it?”
“Leo,” I said. “I promise you, that would never happen.”
His cheeks pinked. “You say that, but you can’t know for sure. You’re so…confident. And skilled. And I keep thinking about the other guys you’ve been with —” at that, I tensed up “— and I don’t want to be the shittest one. Maybe it’s delusional and ambitious of me, but I don’t even want to be average. I want to be the best.”
I reached out to touch his hand. “Listen to me. I’d be lying if I said sex wasn’t a skill, but the person is what really matters. It’s true,” I insisted, at the look on Leo’s face. “The times we had sex were great, weren’t they?”
“Yeah, but that’s because you’re amazing at it,” he said. “I didn’t even get you off. It was so inconsiderate, but I was too scared to try, in case I…” he trailed off, and I hated how wretched he looked.
“It’s okay,” I told him. “I know it’s easier said than done, but don’t stress about this stuff. I was scared the first few times. Everyone is. The truth is, even just trying is hot. Besides.” I smiled. “I can always teach you.”
I expected Leo to blush at that, but instead, he looked at me with those big, gorgeous eyes. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Then he smiled, one of those wide smiles I had missed, and hugged me. I wasn’t expecting it and fell backwards, letting out an “oof.” We rearranged our bodies so we were cuddling more comfortably, me resting against the arm of the couch, his head against my chest. I brushed a hand through his soft hair. That morning, I’d woken up dreading the day ahead with nothing to look forward to, just studying and monotony. I’d never have guessed my evening would end with Leo in my arms.
“Are you still angry with me?” he whispered.
“You’re in my arms,” I said. That was answer enough.
“Then…can I kiss you?”
My heart pounded. “Yeah,” I breathed.
I didn’t make it easy for him. I could’ve lowered my head, but I was too distracted. The muscles in Leo’s arm flexed as he held himself up, and then he brushed his lips against mine, whisper light. I inhaled the clean and subtle smell of him, which I’d almost forgotten over the past few weeks.
My lips parted first, and Leo deepened the kiss, his tongue wet and warm and soft, and in the next moment, I threw away all my dignity. I dragged my hands down the length of his back. I twisted fingers through his hair and tugged his lower lip between my teeth, eliciting a hiss from him. Leo stretched out over me, his hips pressing flush against mine, and he kissed me until I was breathless.
“Leo,” I murmured, “let’s move to my bed.”
We made out in my bed for what felt like hours but was probably closer to twenty minutes. A few times, we’d pull back to catch our breath, and Leo would look at me with dishevelled hair and flushed cheeks, and I’d have no choice but to attack him with kisses all over again.
By the time he rolled himself off me, I was sure my lips were bruised purple-pink.
“Can —” he was out of breath. “Can I —”
“Yes,” I said. The answer should’ve been obvious from how I rubbed against him like a dog in heat.
“Even if I’m not any good?”
“You will be.”
“How can you know that?”
I cupped his face. “Because you’re you, Leo. You’re hot and cute and the fact you’re so desperate to please makes you good automatically.”
He blinked a couple of times. “It does?”
“Yeah.” I leaned closer so my lips graved his ear. “Nothing’s hotter than enthusiasm.”
When I pulled away, Leo was staring at me with dark pupils. He reached for my hands, shyly at first, fingertips dragging over my knuckles. Then he intertwined his fingers with mine. A second later, he was embracing me again, his arousal pushing against my thigh, his nose pressed against my neck. “Can I take your pants off?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
He shuffled down so he was kneeling between my spread legs. I grabbed my pillows and propped them behind me so I was half-sitting up.
Slowly, he slid my pants down, and I looked at the bulge pressing against the front of my boxer briefs. I was hard but not as aroused as I expected, and underneath my excitement was a thrum of worry. Why? Despite my reassurances, was I secretly afraid Leo would bite my dick off? Or maybe I was still scared that he was disgusted by me — that he enjoyed getting off with a man’s hands and mouth, but the idea of reciprocating repulsed him.
But then I saw the way Leo stared at the outline of my erection, and relief flooded through me. I slid my jocks down until they tangled around my knees. My cock sprang out, bobbing slightly, and Leo looked at it the same way I’d seen him look at my lips: intensely and greedily.
He pulled off my boxer briefs completely, tossing them somewhere on the bed, then inched closer, wetting his lower lip. “Can I?” he started, reaching out one hand.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Touch it.”
He curled his hand gently around the middle of my length.
“It’s bigger than I expected.” He brought his face closer. “Maybe it just looks big compared to your thighs.”
“Thanks,” I drawled.
“No, I —” his eyes flashed with alarm. “I meant that now that I’m looking at it, I don’t know how it’s going to fit in my mouth.”
I made a choked noise, and Leo’s brow creased with concern before smoothing into a smug expression — or, at least, the closest someone like Leo could get to smug. Now, with more confidence than before, he slid his hand up my erection. “Is that okay?”
“You can tighten your grip,” I said.
He did, although his expression flickered like he was afraid he was strangling my poor cock. “Like that?”
I nodded. “That’s perfect.”
“Really?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He shifted his hand up and down, still slow and careful, but as my cock hardened to fullness, his shoulders relaxed.
“It feels good like that,” I said when he upped his speed. The first pearl of clear pre-cum spilled from the tip. “Look at that. You’re doing such a good job.”
Leo looked away, flustered and pink.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Don’t you like being told how good you are?”
“Winnie,” he whined. His head was bowed, but he peeked a glance at me. “I can’t be that good. It’s my first time.”
“Sometimes I can’t tell whether you’re genuinely unsure or whether you’re just fishing for compliments.”
“I’m not fishing.” He sounded plaintive.
“You are good,” I said. “My body’s not lying.”
When he didn’t say anything, I added, “Although, to be fair, just the sight of you lying between my legs is enough to make me hard.”
“Right, so my technique’s shit.”
“No! No, it’s —” I paused, then gave him a look. “You’re fishing again.”
He blushed. “Would it feel even better if I used my tongue?”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” he said.
So I nodded, and Leo shuffled back. His legs were so long he had to bend them, feet in the air, otherwise they’d hang uncomfortably over the edge of the bed. I inched my thighs further apart to give him more space as he flattened his torso against the bed, elbows against the inside of my thighs, head lowered, and breath misting against my heavy erection, which twitched in anticipation.
Very slowly, he leaned forward, his pink tongue slipping out from between his lips and flicking against my flushed cockhead.
I’d received a lot of blowjobs during my year of sleeping around, so the barest touch of a tongue shouldn’t have made my stomach clench the way it did. It’s not like it felt particularly amazing — I mean, it did feel nice, but it was the tip of a tongue, not a warm throat. It must’ve been the way Leo was looking at it like it was the only thing that existed. Maybe it was the fact that I knew this was his first time, which made me feel honoured. Or maybe it was simply because it was Leo.
Slowly, he began lapping at the tip. I watched his face carefully because I knew cock and pre-cum didn’t taste especially amazing unless under the ultra-specific circumstance of being horny as hell. Leo must’ve been under those circumstances because he didn’t flinch. In fact, he pressed his tongue against the slit as if trying to coax more pre-cum out.
I cursed under my breath.
Leo paused and looked up at me. “What?”
“Nothing. I just said fuck because” — I exhaled shakily — “because it feels nice.”
“Don’t be quiet. I want to hear you.”
After soaking the tip in warm spit, he dragged his tongue down the length. Then, to my complete surprise, he opened his mouth wide and swallowed half of me down.
I yelped, and he pulled out with a wet noise.
“What?” His eyes were big.
“Nothing.” I took a deep breath. “Shit. Are you…are you sure you haven’t done this before?”
He shook his head.
“How are you so good?”
He shrugged. “I paid attention to what you did to me.”
I pushed a hand through his hair. “Can you do it again?”
He nodded and lowered his head once again, sliding his wet mouth over me, and this time, I wasn’t taken off guard. He used his lips to cover his teeth so he didn’t graze me, and since he’d gotten the length wet, it slid into his mouth easily.
Usually, when receiving a blowjob, I’d control myself more, but with Leo, I let myself be noisy, both because it did genuinely feel nice but also because I knew it would reassure Leo.
“That’s good,” I murmured when he hollowed his cheeks to create a seal. “That’s really good.”
His eyes met mine, and the eye contact made my cock pulse. I could’ve cum like that, just looking at him look at me, his mouth stretched obscenely around me.
“Hey,” I said, making the most of Leo looking at me. “You look really pretty like this.”
Immediately, he looked away, and for a moment, I worried I’d done something wrong. Then I saw the pink bloom across his cheeks, and he started sucking me with renewed vigour like he had something to prove or something to live up to.
As he bobbed his head, I ran my fingers through his hair. He clutched the sides of my hips, fingernails digging into the skin and any other time, it would’ve been painful, but in that moment, it only amplified the pleasure.
I made a warning noise, and Leo let my cock slip out of his mouth. I reached down to stroke myself off a few times, eyes squeezing closed as I came, hot cum splattering against my belly.
When the orgasm faded away, and I came back to myself, I opened my eyes to see Leo staring at the cum on my skin. He grabbed the box of tissues off the bedside table and handed them to me, and his face was blank as he watched me clean myself up, which was a little bit worrying. Was he going to freak out?
Then he lay down beside me. “Did I do a good job?” he asked.
I dropped the tissues on my bedside table — I’d deal with that later — and turned my attention back to Leo.
“You were excellent,” I said and kissed his forehead.
He snuggled closer, his erection digging into the side of my thigh. It was flattering that he was still hard despite giving me head. Or maybe he was hard because he gave me head.
“Do you want me to…” I pressed my knee against his arousal.
He shook his head. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?” Did he feel guilty about the times he got off and I didn’t? Was he trying to even some imaginary score I couldn’t care less about?
“I’m happy to just cuddle,” he said, and looped a leg around mine, burrowing his head into my shoulder, and when he clung to me so tightly, I had to believe him.